


Isolation (Elogium)

by devovere



Series: Five Fantasies Plus... [2]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Bathtubs, Cunnilingus, Episode: s02e04 Elogium, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Guilt, Lust, Masturbation, Pheromones, Power Play, Sexual Fantasy, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 05:14:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16510010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devovere/pseuds/devovere
Summary: Kathryn takes a bath and thinks about recent sexually-charged events on board her ship. Set very shortly after the episode "Elogium."





	Isolation (Elogium)

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Caladenia, whose suggestions improved clarity and flow, and also BlackVelvet42 and TheShorty for generous beta-reading.

She settles into the bath, sighing aloud in the silence as the warm water covers her body up to her collarbone. She inhales lavender-scented steam and feels the muscles in her face relax, tension melting as she closes her eyes and rolls her head from side to side along the tub’s edge.

     _Almost as good as a neck rub._

Then she is imagining hands on her body, long firm strokes over oil-slicked skin, fingers digging into the knotted muscles of her shoulders, back, hips.

     _What I wouldn’t give for a good massage right now._

     _After the week we’ve had._

She wets a cloth, wrings it out, and lays it over her upturned face. 

     _Good for the skin._

     _And for hiding behind._

It’s a ridiculous thought—she’s alone in her quarters, behind two sets of doors, and off-duty to boot.

Still, she leaves the cloth where it is as her hands move to her breasts. She cups one in each hand, rubbing small circles against smooth flesh with her thumbs.

     _The hormones on this ship. I swear._

     _Pheromones._

     _Whatever._

She smiles under the face cloth, then chuckles.

     _“Sex appeal.” Really, Tuvok?_

     _That Vulcan has been around humans too long._

     _Pairing off. Procreation. Wildman informing me she’s pregnant. Kes asking my advice on whether to have a baby at all._

     _They did not cover this in command school._

     _..._

     _And Chakotay wanted to know if I would be pairing off. The nerve of that man. Asking me right on the bridge._

     _“As captain, I don't have that luxury.” What the hell else was I supposed to say?_

     _At least I know where to go with my questions about mating behavior._

She remembers the look on her chief engineer’s face, how B’Elanna’s eyes had widened at her words to Chakotay.

     _Oh, fuck. Klingons have an especially acute olfactory sense, don’t they? Could she have smelled—_

Flushed with sudden humiliation, she covers the cloth on her face with both hands, shaking her head.

    _What the hell was I_ thinking _?_

     _Rhetorical question, Kathryn. You know damn well you were thinking how wet you’d gotten listening to him lecture the bridge crew about sexual attraction in space._

     _Just like right now you’re thinking about his voice, describing submissive behavior._

     _I wonder …_

One hand goes back to its breast, pinching the nipple.

     _… did he, perhaps, speak from experience?_

     _He submits to my authority on duty._

The other slides down between her legs.

     _Would he in bed?_

Her hips drift up, rolling to graze her labia against her fingertips.

     _What could I get him to do?_

Under the cloth, behind closed eyelids, she feels her pupils dilate.

     _Would he go down on me?_

Her knees fall open, a dull ache swelling within her. She lets her middle finger press between her folds, slicking and rubbing and landing finally against her clit, that little nub of pleasure so intense she bites her lips, flexes her thighs.

     _That mouth. God, those lips. I bet he knows how to use them. I bet he likes the taste of a woman._

A small breathy moan escapes her. It seems to echo off all the surfaces in the bathroom.

     _He’s off-duty too. If I’m loud enough, will he hear me through the bulkhead?_

The thought should shame her, but it excites her.

     _Maybe he will. Maybe he’ll know what I’m doing in here, all alone behind all these doors and layers._

“Uuunnnngggg….”

     _Maybe he’ll want to help._

Her other hand joins the first between her legs, two fingers sliding deftly inside herself, spreading, curling, thrusting.

    _Such a considerate man. So—_ fuck! _—attuned to my needs. Always looking out for me._

     _What’s one more duty?_

     _Add it to his job description: Performs captain’s weekly allotment of cunnilingus._

“Oh, god.”

Her fingers are working busily now against her sensitive flesh, sending sparks and shudders through her sex, all through her body.

     _Oh, god. He wouldn’t want my needs to go neglected._

     _On my ready room couch._

     _He'd pull my pants down to my ankles._

     _Kneel on the floor in front of me._

     _Spread my knees._

She’s panting, head tipped back, eyes closed under the face cloth, hips rocking harder and harder against her hands. She suddenly gasps and raises her feet, propping them on the tub’s edge, for leverage, for deeper penetration.

     _Lift my legs right over his head. Boots between his shoulder blades; he'd get off feeling them against his back. The power._

     _He likes to be with a woman who knows how to give orders._

     _He'd look up at me with that glint in his eye. “Permission to lick the captain's pussy?”_

    _His voice would be formal, but I'd say “Granted,” in a bored tone and he'd take it as a challenge. Flash those dimples at me and then—_ yes! _—dive right in._

She’s wet, so very wet, even with the water washing away her fluids as she goes. It eases the friction and assures her all parts are still in working order, despite such very long neglect.

     _Tongue. Fuuuuck, that man's tongue. How far could he reach with it? How fast would it move?_

     _There, RIGHT there! Fuck! Yes!_

     _Another finger. Another. They're so much larger than mine._

    _Fucking fill me up and suck me_ off _you talented bastard. Harder! Shit!_

Water is sloshing onto the floor as she bucks, but it doesn’t break her concentration. This is the best she has felt in months, waves of heat and tension and pressure and that glorious, delicious ache of impending orgasm coursing through her, spreading her toes, tightening her nipples, fed by the water and her hands and above all her imagination and her raw lust for the man she sees every. single. day. close enough to touch, good enough to eat, but so **definitely** off limits no matter what his dark eyes telegraph to her, no matter what his body language screams sometimes—

    _I'm leaning back against the couch. Gripping his head with both hands. Pushing my cunt up against his face, tossing my head side to side, writhing like I'm doing right now because it feels so very_ fucking _good because he is so_ very _fucking good at eating me out, making me moan, making me—come!—yes—yes—yesyesYES—AHHHH!_

She finally peaks, a throaty, wordless cry, her breath stuttering out of her lungs until it’s almost painful, tension releasing suddenly from her whole body as she draws fresh lungfuls of steamy air.

...

The cloth has slid away, and she feels her face exposed in a rictus of greedy pleasure. Feels the tub edge cool against the nape of her neck and the soles of her feet, the air chilly on her damp legs and shoulders.

Feels sanity return.

...

Brings her hands to cover her face as her body—most of all her pulsing sex—twitches with echoes of sweet madness, of frustrated desire momentarily sated.

...

Slides under the water, guilt pressing all around her, threatening suffocation, paralysis.

     _Mark used to love to do that for me. And I used to love to reciprocate._

     _Now I get off dreaming about using my XO for a selfish power game._

She sits up suddenly, breathing deeply again, wiping wet hair back from her face ...

     _When did a little human contact become a luxury? Let alone one I can’t afford?_

… swiping sudden tears from her cheeks.

Angry. With herself. With the situation. 

     _I told him I’ll stay faithful to Mark._

     _I don’t know if he believed me._

     _…_

     _..._

     _I don’t know if I wanted him to._

She pulls the plug.

She kneels in the middle of the tub, weight returning as the water drains, head bowed, skin cooling.

She doesn’t stand and reach for a towel until she is shaking with cold.

It’s all the penance she can manage tonight.


End file.
